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Update:Rogue Pursuits
// In a secluded cavern: A Taraboner man stands murmuring, surrounded by others of his ilk. The light haired man clutches at pouches hanging from his belt and hidden in pockets. His fingers curl around the small leather bags and tighten, bone and sinew visibly bulging underneath his scarred skin. With each syllable his voice grows louder, each word accompanied by involuntary twitches of rage. His face twists and finally erupts, shouting 'Fools! Simple fireworks... this time they've gone too far.' His voice lowers to a coarse whisper. 'We'll show them, we will. We'll flood the land with our own goods and drive the Guild to its knees! ' // At the Galldrian Gate Padrach Fellstir rides through the huge wooden gates, the mare foaming after the short journey from the Chapterhouse to the city. The rotund man seems oblivious to the heaving mare's plight as he turns short of the stables and instead heads south of the city. Along the street he inclines his head with deference at passing carriages rolling by, no doubt concealing nobility behind its curtained windows. Cairhien had always been a constant source of income for the Guild of Illuminators - the King himself hired the Guild most weekends for countless festivities. He tuts to himself in disgust. 'At least until that toad, Mos. Every last man and woman has fireworks. For free!' Padrach makes his way to the park where a member of the Guild waits. The two men confer discreetly before the Illuminator's Assistant takes a piece of parchment from his Master and tacks the notice upon a post: Any able-bodied man or woman who turns in simple fireworks to an Illuminator's assistant will have the thanks and gratitude of the Guild. As a token of our thanks, we will grant one individual private access to the Guild's country cottage in the Hills of Cairhien for one month's time, as well as other sundries from our stores. --------------------- (July 24 2016) //One week later Far away in the Western Borderlands a battle was taking place between forces of Light and forces of Dark. Yet in the southern lands where many commoners still believed trollocs and half-men were things of myth, the people had their own troubles to concern themselves with. In a great hall, Guild members crowd the room as they discuss new, troublesome news of this "Rogue Illuminator" and his antics. Though half a world away from Cairhien, the Chapterhouse in Tanchico was every bit as disturbed. Concerned voices raised with contempt, the tenor of the room growing thick with antipathy. Finally a strong and steady voice calls the group to order and they silence themselves to listen. The Head of the Guild firmly continues. 'They've more men now. He's recruited from the most impoverished, desperate men who are now working for him from their shelters. From the poorest of places they are dealing out goods only we should have the rights to. Every shack, rundown camp and cabin, every hovel and abandoned structure - he's taken control of as a source of distribution. These men have got to be stopped, but we alone can't root out these criminals. We'll still have to garner help of our own. See to it.'